


True Forms

by HunniLibra



Series: True Forms [1]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26242294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunniLibra/pseuds/HunniLibra
Summary: My idea of the demons actually look like . BC I envision this world a little darker. Also, I'm a dirty monster lover, and no I won't apologize.
Relationships: Asmodeus (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Beelzebub (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Belphegor (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Diavolo (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Reader, Leviathan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader, Satan (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Series: True Forms [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906273
Comments: 121
Kudos: 590





	1. Mammon

  * Interestingly enough, his human glamour shows none of the wounds he bears from the celestial war. But his true form? It is a testament to his strength and a reminder that he is the second strongest of the cardinal sins. Mammon takes the shape of a great winged beast. The original number of his wings have been lost to time. All that remains of their splendor are three mismatched ones on his back. Since they are not even he is incapable of flying, but he can still glide for quite some distance and with tremendous speed. 
  * He resembles a mixture of a crow and Strix. He has four large taloned feet that can carve through rock and slice though even demon flesh with ease. His multitude of eyes are bright and simply mesmerizing. Like the twinkling of stars in the night sky. His eyes are the only physical trait left of him from his time as an angel.
  * Old scars pepper his hide under his oily sheen feathers. When he shifts they flash the briefest hints of silver and faded pink. But, the most noticeable wound on him is his beak. The upper mandible is broken, the front half blasted away leaving behind a jagged mess of bone. The magic used against him makes it impossible for him to regrow it. He remembers clearly the blow that marred him. It is one of his recurring nightmares.
  * He keeps a den, hidden from the other brothers deep in the Devildom forests where he hoards all his most precious items from over the millennia. Whenever things get too much at home he will come here to lay amongst his treasures and reminisce. 



* * *

**_Mini Fic_ **

Mammon could feel the need brewing deep within him. The gnawing emptiness slowly eroding at his psyche till it was all-encompassing. Goldie simply wasn't going to be enough this time. He needed his cave, his little sanctuary. Carved out in secret so many years ago. A few hours away from his brothers should help. Something to fill the void. 

He sighs longly. Just imagining the feel of currencies from empires long since fallen and priceless treasures offered to him under his talons was euphoric. His second skin ripples under his glamour. Mammon hums under his breath as he takes the steps to the main door two at a time, shrugging his designer jacket. In his excitement, he almost collides with the latest item of his attention. 

“Oi!” He barks, skidding to a halt in front of you, making a grab at your shoulders before he accidentally toppled you down the flight of stairs. His human looks up from the files overflowing in their arms. He can’t help the smile forming on his lips to match yours. The emptiness inside rattles its cage. Add them to the horde. His molars crack under the strain of his clenched jaw.

“Oh! Sorry, Mammon! It’s kinda hard to see around all this.” You smile sheepishly, scooting off to the side for him to pass. “Are you well?” You notice his stiff posture, hands clenching, and unclenching over your school uniform. He hadn’t let you go yet. 

Unsurprising really, he was one of the clingier brothers. Not that you minded. It was nice sometimes to feel so wanted. Though it was different this time. You could feel the ebb and flow of his magic rippling in the close space. Usually, he had the best control suppressing it in your company. It would have been terrifying if it had been another one of the brothers. Last time one of them ‘lost their cool’ had ended badly for you. “Mammon?”

“What?” He twitches, head jerking to an odd angle. His eyes turn sharp as he looks at you appraisingly. Hungrily. “Oh right, sorry.” The demon releases you. “I’m fine, just need to stretch my legs is all.” He pushes past, for once trying not to fall to his temptation. 

“Can I join? I need a break from all this paperwork. I know I said I’d help Lucifer, but damn.” You laugh placing the stack down on an end table. He chokes on the idea. Yesss~ his inner beast coos in delight. You were making this too easy. He could keep you all to himself, tucked away where no one else could have you. Lucifer would never know.

“I-I don’t want the company.” He grits out, rolling his shoulders in agitation. At himself or you, only the devil would know. “Ain’t a place for little humans.” His response is short and sharp. He could feel his talons growing under his nail beds. Mammon hisses in irritation, he didn’t want to scare you away. Not after everything else you’ve been through. 

“Oh…” It hurts him to hear you so dejected like this. Perhaps- you had handled a lot so far. One more thing won’t kill you. 

“Look-promise not to tell and you can join.” Mammon turns scratching at his neck. "I don't need my brothers knowing where I go. Our little secret?" 

“Our little secret.” You take his hand with a coy grin. 

It wasn’t a long walk. It was pleasant your warm hand wrapped in his. The connection quelled some of the avarice brewing inside. He approaches the edge of the cliff with satisfaction. The precipice looks down into the wilds of the Devildom. It was a beautiful sight really. The heavy gloam of eternal twilight cast a purple haze over the treetops. In the distance, the downtown district twinkle. Mammon exhales happily into the breeze. The wind was picking up. Good. 

Mammon turns to you taking in your apprehension. You lean over the side, looking down into the abyss. "This isn't much of a walk." You chuckle nervously eyeing the deadly drop. A strong gush upsets your balance. Squeaking, you grip onto his sleeve. Your little human nails dig into the leather of his jacket. Cute. 

"Not done yet." He sheds his glasses and coat folding them neatly by the ledge. "It ain't much farther, but it is a ride." He could shred the pants and shirt. Luci owed him a new wardrobe as is. Stretching his arms over his head he grunts. His remaining wings practically vibrate in anticipation. "Promise not to scream?"

"Scream?" Your question is lost in the ruffle of feathers and creak of bone. You gasp back away from the massive beast in front of you. Mammon stood beside you, his body almost blending in with the darkness around you. Dozens of eyes blink owlishly at you, they glimmer like diamonds. They are bright and breathtaking, the depth in them almost sucking you in. He clicks the remnants of his razor-sharp beak expectantly. "Mammon?" You approach, palms outstretched. 

He cocks his head again going dark as he closes all his eyes at your touch. He adjusts himself to make sure you are not in danger of cutting you with his damaged beak. "How many more layers to you brothers are there?" He laughs, cawing loudly as you bury your hands in his feathers. "Ok. So what's the plan?"

Mammon crouches low bumping his shoulder to you. You take the hint clambering onto up onto his broad back. He shifts awkwardly squawking as you pull some feathers. “Sorry! Sorry!” He turns and pecks at your hand gently. Pulling at your sleeves he makes sure you have a good grip at the base of his neck. Feeling you settle he leaps into action. 

Bounding for the ledge, his strong wings flex and catch the wind. He picks the gust up with practiced ease. Years of plummeting and failure made this success all the sweeter with you there as he carries them higher. He could feel your laughter through his body. Your shouts of elation get swallowed by the howling around them. Oh, how he revels in it. He wants more of this.

The flight was quick. Before long he descends, unfurling his legs. Long talons cut into stone the side of the cliff giving way to his might. Effortlessly he slinks up the side, silent like the night around you. The hard coils of muscle on his back and legs bunch and pull under you. The sinuous roll of it causes you to grip him tighter lest you fall. He purrs at the feel of you clinging to him. He doesn't want this to end. Perhaps he should keep you here, all to himself. Mammon reaches your destination and slides off of him to look about. 

The mouth of the cave was cast in heavy shadows from the rising moon. The clouds above teasing you with glimpses deeper in. You follow as the Great Mammon lumbers past you delving deeper. You jog after, placing a hand on his flank. What did he have here? This looks nothing like a place Mammon would go to. He chirps and caws leading you down deeper. His tail swooshing excitedly. It was sweet, his palpable joy rubbing off on you.

You squint accosted by a sudden array of dazzling colors. The inner cave was huge, eternal sconces lighting as he entered. Mammon leaves you to gape at the entrance.   
The demon crawls into a nest made of gold and bolts of expensive fabrics. He yawns, wiggling himself deeper into the coins, eyes drooping pleasantly. While he dozes you walk around the large treasure trove. You run your hands over no doubt priceless jewels and sets of armor. Maps and pieces of art litter the large space. Their golden frames glowing from the light of the sconces. He even had some tomes stacked neatly in the corner, covers embossed with gold and silver. 

"Surprised your car isn't here too. " Mammon snorts eyes rolling. "Can I join you?" You look at the nest. It looks rather comfy and he obviously wasn't going to be moving anytime soon. Mammon is silent for a moment then clicks his beak, wings opening inviting you. You scramble up close grabbing a few stray pillows as you go. If a bird could smile he would be beaming at the feel of your body resting against his feathered side. Draping a wing over you he settles in for a nap.

Yes, you would be the final piece of his collection.


	2. Asmodeus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up Satan.

  * He is an odd thing really. The best way to describe him is more of a feeling. He is like an itch you can’t scratch, or that little buzzing thought in the back of your mind. That one where every time you try to focus on it it disappears. 
  * Whenever one tries to look directly at him it is as though he vanishes. The best way to look at him is through your peripheral vision. It is a total contrast to his usually boisterous human form. But then again, being cast out of heaven was a punishment after all. 
  * He can never be the center of attention in this form. But that won't stop him from using it to his advantage. 
  * See, lust is a fickle thing. It changes from person to person. Desire to desire. Staying in one form or another is a detriment to his sin. It is far easier to burrow deep into someone's subconscious by being a tantalizing mystery than some tangible beast like his brother's forms. He doesn’t need his prey to fear him, he needs them to want him. 
  * Being a momentary glimmer in someone’s eye is the fastest way to become an infatuation, to have them lust for him. He has captured so many souls just by being an enigma, or unsolvable riddle. It drives mortals to madness, the simple act of just trying to find him has brought down kings, brought down civilizations. It is a rush like no other.
  * He lures people in first with his voice. It is no more than a layered whisper to most. It forces you to strain to hear it, to search out the being behind such an angelic noise. It shifts and changes depending on the person hearing it, becoming more desirable to that person’s preference. Sometimes people hear the soft beckoning of a lover, or the voice of a family member long since buried. Others hear what they want to come in the future, like the infantile babble of a child or the yipping of their dream pet. He never knows what he looks or sounds like till he has ensnared someone. 
  * But, for your sake, he tempers it (just barely). There are rules to be followed, as much as he hates it. But he can’t have everyone’s favorite human falling into madness now can he? When he comes to you like this you know to look straight ahead. He will move where he wants to. It’s strange at first, proper manners can’t really apply anymore. It’s a learning curve but in the end, you both adapt. 
  * From what you can make out from the corner of your eyes is a human-like form. Which means to say he’s bipedal. His shape is tall and wispy and flickers out of reality from time to time. His skin is glossy and reflective like glass, picking up the environment around him instead of having a defined shape. Every time he moves his shape ripples as though trying to shape itself into something tantalizing. 
  * When he gets closer you sense him more than see him. He feels like happiness. A hug from a friend or the feel of a hot shower after a long day. You find it rather therapeutic. It flusters him. No one has ever described him as such before.
  * He is beyond curious to know what desires he reflects in you.



* * *

_**Mini Fic** _

You could have sworn he was in his room, his text said he was. Last night he had bombarded you with messages all last night, raving about a new shipment of bath salts that had arrived for him. He had a few he wanted you to try. It was a sweet gesture, even if he not so subtly hinted at how dry your skin was becoming. 

"Asmo?" You knock twice before entering. His open-door policy for you made it so you could barge in whenever you wished. Slipping in you make a beeline for your usual spot. Leaving a trail of discarded winter clothes on the floor you curl up on the chaise lounge overlooking the garden. He was one of luckier brothers to have a great view of the outer gardens. The white and lavender roses growing up the hedge wall wave at you in the light breeze outside. 

Movement catches your attention out of the corner of your eye. You flick your head to see what it was before you could stop yourself. "Asmo!" You jerk your gaze back to the window. That brief glance was enough though. You could feel the burning need to look back at him brewing. An odd desperation started gnawing in your stomach. The need scrambles your thoughts. The demanding call to find him was overwhelming. You needed to see him more than you needed breath in your lungs or the blood in your veins. You would trade it all just a moment in his glory.

The feeling is gone as suddenly as it arrives. “Thank you.” You sigh rubbing at the pain in your chest. 

"Sorry~" Asmodeus spoke. His voice a faint whisper in the back of your head. It was crisp and clean, the accent reminiscent of the people you grew up with, past friends and family welcoming you back. "I just thought I'd slip into something more comfortable. Didn’t know you would be here so quick. Though I should have, I am a treat to be around." You laugh, feeling wispy air tickle the nape of your neck and something that could have been a tongue brushing along the shell of your ear. His breath smelled of honeyed mead and apples. 

You exhale his scent and hum in delight at the warm memories. Hmmm. Yes, you were dying to go home for fall break. You could practically taste your gran’s special rhubarb crumble. The homemade whip cream she topped it with light and fluffy on your tongue. He would love the little sprinkle of brown sugar and cinnamon she always put on top. Perhaps he could accompany you for the holiday?

Shifting in the lounge, you allow his natural abilities to wash over you. The sensations he was pulling from you now were controllable, more like reliving a happy moment then suffering through a faded memory. He wasn’t bringing up your family on purpose, you knew that. He had no control over what desires he amplified, and there was only so much he could temper his powers. 

“You are incorrigible.” You chuckle, hands reaching blindly behind yourself. To an onlooker, your flailing hands and tense posture would be comical. But for you, you knew his little game. He dodges out of range of your hands. Still looking out in the gardens you wait for him to come to you. You grin as he finally shifts close enough for your fingers to brush along a part of his form. 

He felt like smooth silk and was warm to the touch. Some parts of him wrap around your hand, giving it a tight squeeze before retracting. "Aren't I?" His chuckle sounded like droplets of rain on a tin roof. You relax, leaning back to where you guess his body is. He braces you, the heat of him engulfing your back before lapping over your shoulders and down your sides. You feel his smooth head nudge against the top of yours, the closest thing to a kiss you could get from him right now. 

"What's the occasion?" You ask as he lifts himself onto the chair to spoon your back. 

“Felt-tight. My other forms just were doing it for me today. Even though all my forms are fabulous, sometimes the original is just better.” He strokes your hair, ruffling it with one too many fingers to be considered human. “Oh~ are you using that conditioner I suggest?” 

You nod shifting so he can inspect you further. You bask in the comfort of his light embrace for a moment. “Can I turn around please?” You ask in the pleasant silence. “I won’t try to peek. Scouts honor.” 

He huffs, nuzzling into your neck. “Tempting the Tempter? Brazing little thing aren’t you.” 

You nudge his limbs away and turn around slowly, eyes tightly shut. “Learned from the best.” You agree, gluing yourself to his front “Now, a proper hug please, if you are so inclined.” 

“Who could say no to that?” 


	3. Satan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bloop

  * Does wrath have a form?
  * To have a body only imprisons an idea or emotion. With no corporeal body, he is a boundless devastating calamity. He is parallels that clash and drives one to the brink. His sin is like drowning in flames, growing, and growing till it swallows one whole. It burns and lashes out blindly, it is true helplessness. He seeks out the weakness in man, finding the crack in the veneer. Then he strikes fast, burrowing in deep into the human psyche.
  * He finds the little things and picks at them like a scab. Poking and prodding, whispering all the little things that will make the brain boil. He leaves only when the human is a husk of their former self and are consumed by his wrath.
  * Formlessness suited him, for a while at least. But as the eons progress, he grows restless. He grows tired of being the invisible brother. Tired of being mentioned only in passing from the six fallen angles. He was more than that, he was stronger than that. He will step out of this shadow of Lucifer.
  * He creates a form. Unique and special to him, no other brother could do it. In his own way, he is prideful.
  * Satan builds one out of ash and char. He spent years collecting and molding his form to perfection. He makes his body from clay, wood, and paper. Each strip and scrap painstaking collected and etched with sigils and protection runes to shield it from his sin. The heat of his rage glows through his eyes and the cracks of his burning body. The flames that burst forth from his body are like solar flares, arching, and floating around his body as he moves.
  * His flames change colors with his mood. Anything from the deepest purples and oranges to blinding whites. The heat of which can be felt from yards away. All the while, great plumes of smoke burst forth from his hollow orifices.
  * He has the smallest form of the cardinal sins. As wrath does nothing but wares the body down. He constantly has to maintain his form by renewing signals and collecting material. Granted, he still towers over the average human male.
  * His spine is bowed into a permanently hunched stance. His long twig-like fingers drag the ground as he moves. Though he is considered bipedal he lopes on all fours as his arms are disproportionately long to his body.
  * He is the only brother that can’t be in close vicinity of you when he takes on his true form. To say that fuels the fires of his wrath is an understatement. It’s unfair. Why can the other brothers be near you? Why can they temper themselves enough for you to approach? 
  * You both work together, looking through his massive collection of books and scrolls. Surely there must be something to make it so you wouldn’t burst into flames just by being near him.
  * He genuinely wants to show you his form. He is proud of it since he created it himself.
  * Finally, you two find a solution. There is no way for you to be in the same room, and enchanting you would be too risky. But rooms can be enchanted. He decides to enchant the planetarium to be heat resistant. You can stay inside there and he will go outside with the wards protecting you.
  * When he’s outside the heat of him feels like a warm summer day. Your own personal heat lamp.

* * *

Mini Fic



“I don’t understand.” You squint at the equation in front of you. This was the third time you had redone this problem. The theorem was copied correctly. Your math was correct. Right? “What did you get on this one Satan?” You look up, and up, and up, through the plated glass windows and up into his smoldering lamp-like eyes. Alchemy was always a pain in the ass.

Satan leans down closer from his spot outside, long thin fingers grasp at the planetarium outer walls. The metal and glass groan under the pressure and heat of him. The inner room’s temperature spikes around you, the cool night air turning into a balmy summer’s eve. Sweat peppers out on your skin, the flush so sudden it makes you dizzy. Underneath his palm, the sigils he had carefully had painted across the entirety of the room lit up, and the heat dissipates back to a pleasant blanket around you.

“Hmm.” Smoke billows from between his lipless mouth and nostrils holes. His vocal cords vibrate around the ash and cinders constantly present in the back of his throat. “Move it closer.” Rising to your toes you smack your notebook on the glass. One large eye bares down unblinkingly. You wait as he mulls over your chicken scratch and notes scribbling in the ledgers. You stare back as the orange flames he exudes turn from a deep violet to an emerald green.

“It’s ok. You can tell me I’m stupid.” You pout eyeing the new color of his flames. After so long together you finally picked up on what color flame meant what. Bright white is anger. Blue is calm. Pink is embarrassed. Orange is neutral. And green, well, green is nothing short of smug. Satan laughs, the green flames ticking the windows around you in arching playful patterns. The deep timbers of his warm voice rumbling through the room.

“Not stupid- Mammon has that covered.” You shoot him a scathing look. He coughs looking away, his flames flashing pink. “ You’re just rushing.” He continues. “Here, you skipped a line in your calculations.” He points a sharp claw at the glass. “You need to erase up to there and edit. Shouldn’t take too long. After that do you want to work on the history lesson? That’s due tomorrow.”

You nod, already reworking the problem. He was right, as usual. The equation was much simpler than you initially thought. “What chapters was it again?” You ask. Putting your notebook away, you dig through your bag for the history book you needed. Satan grunts behind you shifting to settle back down to stretch out on the back patio. “Lucifer is going to strangle you.” You laugh turning to watch the stone flooring outside pop and crack under his intense heat. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Satan smiles, intentionally flaring up. The bushes and trees around him wilt and crumble into ash. Laughing along with him you sit back on the mound of pillows you had “borrowed” from Belphie’s room and crack open the large tome. The demon shifts his flames once more pulling them into himself and dimming them. Now his large body radiated a soothing orange. The flames peeking out in between the tiny cracks and holes in his body flicker like a candle.

The heat from his body always radiated differently when he did this. It was less of a centralized heat and now more of a full-body radiance. It reminded you of sunbathing in a park or tanning at the beach. You smile up at him in thanks and press your side into the warm glass wall. He mirrors you. His fingers tracing the glass where your hand rested in silence as you get comfortable. “I believe we were starting the fall of Rome. Lucifer and Mammon’s doing. A very clever execution of their powers if I do say so myself. ” Satan sighs pulling his hand back to rest in his lap.

“Oh? Was that praise for your brothers I hear?” You smirk flipping to the chapter.

“Just start reading the damn chapter.” He knocks on the glass in warning. You chortle ignoring his mock threat. “Laugh it up. But if you say a word to Lucifer I’ll singe your eyebrows.”


	4. Lucifer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bleep

  * He wears the heaviest glamour out of all of the brothers. The rage and pain from being cast from heaven has warped his angelic body. Turning him into a husk of his former divine glory. He is massive. His body is tall and gaunt. His large form towers over the oak trees of the Devildom forest, each step of his gnarled feet leaving chard prints in their wake. Lucifer is deceptively strong for as emaciated as he looks.
  *   
After the war his body is in a constant state of trying to heal itself. His skin hardens into a thick scab before flaking off, only to reform moments later. His body trying to reform to its old self, even after he had fallen. It gives him an almost dripping look. When larger pieces flack off you can see stark white bones underneath for the briefest of moments before the darkness swallows it whole again. It is a continuous breaking and mending, a maddening itch and perpetual soul deep ache.
  *   
The halo that once sat righteously atop his crown is now embedded in it. It is buried deep into his skull and shattered after his fall to the Devildom. In a vain attempt to make it look better he filed and broke pieces away styling them the best his broken pride could. They resemble large branching antlers now, sharp and lethal. Ancient hymns lost to time that were engraved by his father when he was young are now worn and dingy, the text indistinguishable in part. It was a tarnished holy relic that only the foolish would try to take (And many souls from all three realms have tried). A few centuries ago he got the jagged edges capped and adorned with gold. Bright red garnet and jewels are interwoven in thin, but strong, gold chains drape over the distorted halo. It was a gift from Diavolo, as the prince somehow finds this form beautiful.
  *   
Like Mammon, he is littered with scars from battle not even his healing magic can mend. They have made him slower, the constant mending of his tattered flesh has made it grow stiff and subsequently stunts his range and movement. Scars layer upon scars across his body. Twisting in on themselves like bark. His own personal chains. The holes where he discarded his wings in an act of defiance are now blackened craters in his back. He is unable to heal those that are self inflicted.  
You can hypothesize his inability to heal this form as a battle of will. His own mind and body in inner-turmoil, parts of him wanting to continue a torture he doesn’t deserve.   
It is fine, it is his burden to bear.
  *   
On the rare rainy days you can hear his joints creak and groan as his skin tears and reform. His bones grind together chillingly. He believes it is symbolic. His body groaning under the strain over-encumbered by the weight of his sins. All the brothers know to give him space on those days.
  *   
Even in his human glamour he wears stiff fabrics and corsets to help brace his body and give him an air of dignity even when he just wants to crumple at his desk.  
He knew his actions in the celestial realm would have severe repercussions; but he never could have imagined it to be this abhorrent. This was truly the cruelest punishment his father could have ever bestowed on him. A form he can find no pride in.



* * *

Ugh. Everything hurt.

If the knot in your neck got any bigger you doubt you’d be about to move out of your chair. You close your textbook with a quick snap, done for the day. Any more drawn out paragraphs from magicians long since dead and you were going to scream. The hours in the school study hall had been beneficial but draining. The tutor on duty that day, a low-level demon named Drath, had taken a shine to your eagerness to learn and was more than willing to sit with you to talk out some of the more advanced runes you were struggling with. They had moved on to help a few more students after a while, pleased with your new understanding of Devildom magic. You stretch out in your seat, grunting softly as your spine pops. Tired of your studies you rise to perch at the window of the large room. The large windowsill overlooked the courtyard of the campus. A few students and professors run out in the courtyard trying to find shelter from the rain.

The sudden downpour had hit during lunch. The torrential downpour hammers at the windows and roof of the school. Trees and bushes tossed about in the high winds, flattened by the rain. Bright flashes of lighting blinding your eyes every so often making you blink the spots from your eyes to see the white board. Truthfully, the storm looked like it had settled on the school, happy to howl and pelt any unlocky souls with oversized raindrops. Shoot, you had hoped it would have waned by the end of classes. You hadn’t grabbed your raincoat or umbrella that morning. Cloudy days were common enough here, but rain? Has it ever rained while you were here? You peak at your phone, debating if you should text one of the brothers to come bring you an umbrella. Hmmm- you still had thirty minutes left before your study time was officially over. Maybe you’d get lucky and it would lighten up before you were forced to head back to the dorms.

You had made plans to go to the new outdoor cafe with Asmo and Beel after dinner. A little something to take you collective minds off the daunting midterms looming over you all. Lucifer’s warnings had been very clear. All residents of the house had to get good grades, no exceptions. His sharp eyes had lingered on Mammon and Asmodeus a little longer than the rest. You could feel the heat of his dark eyes even from your chair across the table. You weren’t a horrible study, but somethings just weren’t clicking like they should. It was a little stressful (a lot stressful). After a few nights of stress sobbing with Beel you had finally gone with Solomon to his study group. A few weeks of lessons and you felt much better. Good enough to celebrate. If the damn weather would take the hint.

As if the weather was attuned to your thoughts a huge flash of bright orange lightning cracked across the sky. It rattled the stained glass window, the light blinding you. Great. Blinking the white dots from your vision you turn back to your desk. Looks like you were just going to have to make a run for it.

“Forgot something?”

“Lucifer!” You smile accepting the large umbrella from his gloved hand. “Thanks! I didn’t know you were still on campus.”

“Yes. I had a few errands and meetings with Diavolo cramped in.” He looks down at you with a tight-lipped smile. In the bright light of the room you noticed beads of sweat forming on his smooth brow trailing down his temples. His eyelid pulsed, fluttering with his heart beat. If you hadn’t been staring you probably wouldn’t have noticed. You look at him, noticing how despondent his normal ridged prideful aura was. He stares blankly down at one of your large tomes struggling with the large clasps.

“Are you well?” Lucifer blinks, dropping the metal bindings as if burned. He licks his pale lips for a moment in contemplation. Something just on the verge of slipping out. But, it is quickly lost shuttered away behind his normal lofty expression. 

“What makes you say that?” He asks. Lucifer turns away from you to collect your things. “Come, We’ll be taking the back way to the house. It has better coverage and the storm has yet to reach it.” You follow behind quietly, waving a quick goodbye to Solomon and Drath.

The silence around Lucifer was different today. Normally he hid his agitation from you, only bringing it out if it was directed towards you. You’d only seen him like this when Mammon had done something foolish. “Lucifer, what’s wrong.” You try again catching his sleeve to pull him back. It all happened so fast. A sharp inhalation of breath, his arm jerked from yours. His whole being repelled by your touch. He rounds on you, eyes flashing dangerously. He never minded when you touched him before. “Luci?”

“Please,” He cuts you off with a trembling hand. “I am fine. Let’s get home before the storm worsens.” He drops you off at the front stairs and excuses himself, muttering about other business to attend to. You stare after him deeply perturbed. He was never the most touchy-feely of the seven, but he was always straight with you after what happened with Belphie. To be so physically distant worried you.

He wasn’t at dinner. The head of the table was devoid of his strong presence. The other brothers seemed to be making an unusually strong effort not to look at the vacant spot. Even Satan, who you thought would be smirking at the fact the eldest had broken his own rules, sat eyes glued to a book perched in his lap. His golden spoon paused midway to his mouth. It was almost like nothing was amiss. “Is Lucifer o.k?” You turn to Levi, his head buried in his handheld, food halfway eaten. His fingers pause for a moment over his screen.

“Ye, he’s fine. Just doesn’t like the rain is all.” Oh. It doesn’t settle your worries but if no one else was stressing…

The storm lasted well into the night. The rolling thunder keeps you up well past when you should be sleeping. That and the annoying creaking that echoed out from your unlit fireplace. Or was it your window? The groaning and grinding sounds permeated the air of your room, picking up intensity at odd intervals. It reminded you of a swaying tree caught in a hurricane. Limbs twisting and snapping in the wind as it is battered from all angles, its thick trunk losing the fight to stay upright. The low grinding of it all resonating in your chest, deep and palpable. It was so loud, and the forest was so far away. Irritated, you push yourself out of bed, determined to find a place where the noise couldn’t reach you.

Pacing the long desolate hallways you try to retrace your steps to a lesser used room. Maybe steal one of Belphie’s favorite sleeping nooks. As you make your way down the hallways you begin to notice the sounds of the trees getting louder. Like you had suddenly found yourself in a grove of winding and dancing trees. You take a sharp left determined to find the cause of the noise and put an end to it. In your frustration you almost missed the door left ajar. Mid stride you stop. Who would be up at this hour? Coming closer you recognize the door.

It was Lilith’s room. The warm glow of firelight pulsing on the velvet of the hallway rug. The groaning sound of trees comes from behind the ornate door. You bristle, if one of the brothers was setting up stupid prank this late at night you’d kill them.

The eldest of the brothers stood staring into the pits of the roaring hearth. His dark eyes were glassy. The reds of his iris reflect the dancing flames. He was completely obvious to your intrusion. Clothes lay scattered about the floor haphazardly, his shirt, vest and overcoat were thrown across the floor, pants hanging low on his narrow waist. Lucifer moves closer to the roaring flames with less then his usual grace. His left leg seems stiff, the knee unwilling to bend fully as he walks. In the magically created sunlight of the room you notice his alabaster skin shift and flicker, like a TV with a bad connection. One second it was smooth, the next chard rough patches litter his skin. The black welts and molting flesh flash before you then disappear. He croons deep in the back of his throat as the flames lick at his outstretched hand. Again the sounds of tree limbs snap assault your ears as he flexes his fingers. 

You stand rooted to the spot unsure of what to do. This was a very vulnerable moment for him you were sure. When was the last time you saw him with his body fully uncovered? Never. You really should give him some privacy. This was clearly not something he wished for anyone to see. Yet your heart wept for him. Lucifer was clearly in pain. Bare fingers digging large groves into the stone of the fireplace. His jaw twitching as sharp pains rack his body. “I know you’re there.” He pins you in place with his husky voice. “It’s rude to stare.”

You stumble in, legs trembling. You could feel the rant coming. Bracing yourself you squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the torrent. Whatever he was going to say was cut short, a hitched breath making you look up. He is gripping at his side, unable to look at you. “Lucifer?” He raises his free hand to you, ignoring you to limp to the overstuffed armchair. He hunches over shielding his face in his large palms.

“It’s best if you forget you saw this. Please leave.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Leave.” He repeats again more firmly. “I wish to be alone.” He waves you off. You hear the creaking again. It moves with him.

“Is that you?” You ask. Watching him adjust himself in his seat. The sound of twigs bending to their max before snapping answer your question.

“Astute observation as always.” He grunts rubbing at his knee. “One would think Mammon is rubbing off on you.” His biting jab is dry. His eyes dart to the rainfall outside. His insult completely lacks his usual sting. But then again his barbs were always softened with you.

“It’s the rain isn’t it?” You ignore his blatant want for solitude, feed up with his stupid broodiness and unwilling to let a friend hurt. “My granddad was that same way. His joints would just ache and pop during really bad weather.” He puffs up for a second, comparing him to an old man twisted sourly in his gut. “Let me help?”

“How?” He whispers beyond tired suddenly. He had talked to Barbatos earlier that day. The storm was here to stay for the time being. A day or two at most. To him it would be an eternity. You approach, hands raised as if to a cornered animal. In a way he felt like it. He sits still, allowing you to approach. Lucifer chokes back a small whimper of bliss as you touch him. Your palms were so warm, resting and rubbing on his aching shoulder. He could feel his old bones settle; a brief moment of bliss.

“What do you need?”

He leads you to his quarters, letting you stop by your room to grab a few things on the way. You reappear from your room, shaking your rucksack at him with a smile. “I think some of these things might help!” Lucifer appreciated the sentiment but doubted it highly.

You were used to nights spent in his office, and a few rare occasions that he invited you to his bed chambers. That is where he led you now. His hand is large and warm on your back as he shuffles you past his bed and towards his walk in closet. You look about, confused at his vast collection of historical clothes and why you were in his closet to begin with. He smiles weary at your question but stays silent coming to stop at his wardrobe. He takes you through to another hidden room. The magic of the vast space making your skin tingle. Goosebumps blossoming on your arms and neck.

It was an unused part of the catacombs. Eons ago Lucifer had stumbled upon it in his explorations of his new home. It had long since become a mini sanctuary from when the odd storm got to his bones, or a brother had gotten under his skin. Large orbs float lazily across the vaulted ceiling. Knocking into each other with a soft tinkle of chimes. Their warmth was reminiscent of spring time back in the celestial realm. Already his old bones felt better. His mind unclouding.

His stride falters for a moment, polished dress shoes squeaking on the opulent marble. What was he going to do? Show you himself? “Lucifer?” He feels you turn to him, sliding his arm away from your back to grip it in your small hands. “Let me help you? Please?” You make eye contact and smile reassuringly.

His resolve breaks. Damn, when had he gotten so soft? “Help me with my jacket.” His words were muddled but clear. It was getting hard to rotate his right shoulder again. The storm was raging right over the house now and his body protested. He had redressed hastily in Lilith’s room. You may have seen him at his most vulnerable, but he would never let the brothers. If Satan saw, he’d never hear the end of it. You nod and walk behind him. Standing on tiptoes you help him shrug off his coat and fold it neatly to side with your belongings. The corset beneath was a little trickier for you. It was an ingeniously designed brace that doubled as a designer corset. You never noticed, but up close the silk of his corset was brocade. The black of the fabric was decorated with a subtle shiny black thread. To the naked eye one couldn’t see it. But you could feel it as you brushed your fingers along his waist. In the bright light of the room the thread shimmered in all of its intricacies. 

“They are runes.” He answers your silent question refusing to look at you as you worked, hyper aware of your fingers tracing the stitching. “It helps with-” the pain, the humiliation, my pride? “Everything.” You nod accepting his words and unlace it gently. He shivers at the soft caress, it was like his body gravitated towards your touch. His actual skin buzzing with want.

“Does this happen a lot?” You come to his front and begin on the buttons of his dress shirt.

“No, rainstorms like this are rare. Once every couple of centuries it gets- bad.” Lucifer leans some of his massive weight on you while you lift his arm out of the sleeve. “You are good at this.” He eyes you skeptically. How many people had the luxury of your undivided attention?

You chuckle turning to fold his shirt neatly. “Why thanks, I guess? Like I said my granddad had bad bones. I used to help him on the bad days.” You eye his pants and flush. “I won’t help with those though.”

“Pity. Give me a moment would you?” The demon chuckles turning to give himself an illusion of privacy. Already being out of the cold and drafty halls made him feel better already. This room had been meticulously built to help him. Artificial sun, warm, and not too humid. A light draft in the rafters getting the air circulating. Spending the night down here, and he’d be able to function for tomorrow’s numerous meetings. Closing his eyes he releases his glamour.

Shifting felt like breaching water. A slight resistance then a cool wave of relief as he breaches the surface. Resting on his hunches his rumbles low, feeling his broken halo scrap the vaulted ceiling. His little human gasps looking up, and up, and up till they meet his hollow skull like face. He holds his breath, gut and hearts clenching in fear. What must you think of him? He watches with trepidation knowing this body was a lot to comprehend. “Wow. I thought you were tall before.” You grab at your satchel digging into the depths. “I’m afraid my little jar won’t go far now, but I’d still like to try.” He leans down looking at the jar posed at the tips of your fingers.

“Tiger balm?” His voice was abrasive and jagged. The multilayered lilt scrapped your eardrums like metal on bone. You flinch. A slight twinge of your shoulders barely noticeable, but it makes him recoil nonetheless. It’s jarring, but not as scary as you originally thought.

“Sorry,sorry.” You placate the giant beast. “Took me by surprise.” You creak a reassuring grin. “This whole day has. But that’s ok.” You meet his gaze, his oblong head cocked to the side to stare at you. Up close you could see that his eye sockets weren’t hollow as they originally appeared. Deep within the bone and flaking flesh you could see a faint pure white glow, a little pinprick in the abyss flickering like a candle. Taking his stillness as permission you wonder back over to his large taloned feet. The constant healing and chaffing of his skin creates a foul vapor around him. The plumes of it blocking out the sunning orbs in waves. It smelled awful, like burning hair, skin and sulfur. But you push through taking small breaths through your mouth till your body adjusted. You glance at the tiny jar in your hand feeling stupid. “I’ll have to order some more but I hope this helps.” Lucifer looks at your outstretched hand at a complete loss of what you expected him to do. “Well,” You gestate at him to come closer. “Where does it hurt the most?” He laughs. A dry clicking in the back of his many vocal chords. His back hurt the most, it always did. A consistent little reminder of what his past actions cost him. Though, there were some things he wasn’t ready to divulge to you.Yet.

“That little jar will do nothing. But-” He continues trying to cover for his snappishness. He hated the frown drawing tight on your lips. “I will be signing a lot of paperwork tomorrow.” He brings a massive hand down and places it on the cool marble in front of you. The joints were bare to you, the flesh unable to encompass the swelling. His phalanges felt cold and hot all at once. Sudden spasms making the exposed nerves light up and twitch. “If you could?”

Clambering up his table sized finger with his approval you straddle it and rub some of your ointment on your palms to warm it. “Let me know if I hurt you.” With that you sink your hands through the mist and begin to work at his tender joints. The great beast rumbles in enjoyment. His keen nose picking up the spicy scent of the balm and your naturally pleasant musk. Within minutes the warming ointment began to soothe him. Leaving you to your ministrations Lucifer arches his neck up to the sky and begins to sun himself. The tension of the rain storm rolling off his body as the sun globs begin to orbit around his massive frame. Your little hums of happiness as you worked made this almost worth the humiliation of you seeing him at his lowest.


	5. Diavolo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Beelzebub

  * He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.
  * No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.
  * Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.
  * But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the windowpane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.
  * On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.
  * The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.
  * Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed.
  * You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.
  * He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.
  * You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.



* * *

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient _pitiful_ existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he _wanted_ to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat. 

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this." Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.” 

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back? He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?” 

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself. 


	6. Beelzebub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Leviathan

  * The embodiment of starvation. The sharp contrast between his healthy and fit forms is truly baffling.
  * Mouths are scattered all over his gangly form. It is the only human thing about him as he is faceless otherwise. When hunting they release a mist or plague of locusts depending if his hunger is physical or emotional
  * His hunting form is juvenile and frail. Naturally small and unassuming, it is perfect to lure his victims close and ensnare them forever. He attracts souls with an overwhelming hunger. It’s a lure filled with false promises of substances and warm. When close he latches on like a parasite and gorges until there is nothing left but an empty husk.
  * Once full his form shifts into something- greater- his small body growing and stretching. It’s somewhere along the lines of a human growth spurts, or puberty, but is done in moments. It’s uncomfortable for him; the rapid growth takes a lot out of him.
  * When fed he is larger, but still skeletal in form. It’s a permanent reminder of his new immortal purpose. His skin is like stone, hard and grey but translucent. It is stretched tight around his frame, like an artist canvas over his jet black bones. The texture of it emphasizes all the odd twists and turns of his bone structure and whatever else lies underneath his flesh.
  * Each raspy breath he draws from the many mouths scattered around his body rattle his disjointed skeleton. His bones clinking together with every exhale to create a truly chilling symphony.
  * When crazed with hunger he loses himself. In his younger years as a cardinal sin he was responsible for wiping out land masses and civilizations to try and dull the ache before his brothers could contain him.
  * His gluttony isn't only for physical sources of substances. Slabs of meat only go so far. He will latch on like a leech, to anything that radiates his current emotional cravings. Love? Happiness? Fear? He wants to experience it all. Filling and cramming every little space with whatever sensations he craves. Till the deadened feeling in his chest is a little less.
  * There was a time where he was very close with his brother sin greed. During their younger years as demons they would terrorize the mortal realm, a deadly duo. Both unable or unwilling to control their new urges.
  * He hates this existence. He’s empty and it drives him mad. Was he like this in heaven? Honestly, Beel can’t remember anymore. He doesn’t think so. He had his brothers and sister to keep him in order and a different name. At the time he was called Temperance, right? He thinks. It’s a bit foggy.
  * But what hurts him the most is that his family structure is fractured now. There is a hole where Lilith used to be, and no amount of souls or food will ever fill that.
  * When he met you it helped a little. But he has to be weary.
  * He has better control of his abilities now then a couple centuries ago so you don’t have to worry too much. He likes having you around. It fills part of the void that he’s been struggling with for so long. Being with you makes him feel like dirt has finally hit the bottom of what he thought was a vacuous void inside.
  * Sometimes his natural abilities seep out when he is hungry or frustrated from another family row. He gravitates towards you then, searching for that odd human comfort demons just don’t possess. He sips slowly on it; with your permission of course. Not the wisest idea- but an idea nonetheless. 



* * *

##  **Mini Fic**

> **Sleepy Sloth Boi** \- Hey. Can you check up on Beel? He had a bit of a argument with Asmo today

> **Sleepy Sloth Boi** \- Apparently he ate a homemade face goop? IDK, it’s stupid. 

> **Sleepy Sloth Boi** \- I would, but I’m stuck in a remedial class with Lucifer

> **Sleepy Sloth Boi** \- I don’t know when I’ll be out- 

> Ok! Is he in your room?- 

> **Sleepy Sloth Boi** \- No, at the gym. Asmo called him and chewed him out. Didn’t go well. Trainers called me. He busted up some equipment and might have eaten someone... They want him out. 

> Oh... K I’ll head over now-

You frown down at your D.D.D and stuff it in your bag. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. You had heard stories of his terrible temper when hungry. Most of the time you have seen him just mope, huddled up in the kitchen eating his feelings. He was always open to talk though and you usually could convince him out of the kitchen so Lucifer didn’t have an aneurysm over a barren fridge.

The gym isn’t far from the house. A short tram ride and a walk down a couple of familiar streets. You have spent every Saturday morning with Beel there, spotting him. Not that you really could. With the amount of weights he was deadlifting, but he appreciated the company nonetheless. You ring up the front desk dashing across the street. It goes straight to voicemail. Crap it must be bad. You round the corner right before the gym and skid to a halt. Glass and metal litter the cobble street. The shards flicker off the lights of the street lamps drawing your eye to the sheer amount of damage around you. Some equipment even stuck out of the wall adjacent to you.

You make your way closer. “Human! Tis’ not the best time to be here. We are having a bit of an issue.” A terrified trainer scuttled towards you, mandible clicking in alarm. “You best turn back. We don’t need your body littering the streets too.” They wave a three fingered claw back up the street. On cue a weightlifting machine was launched through the remaining window exploding on impact with the road. A few more trainers run out after it, yelling and pushing at each other to get out of the way. A dark black mist bellows out after them.

Well shit.

“I’m actually here to try and help.” You smile down at the tiny demon trying to instill some false confidence in them. You think you could handle this. You didn’t want to call in the cavalry to get him. Knowing Beel, it would only trigger his guilty conscience. “If you could give me a moment.” Ignoring the little creature you creep forward, careful of the broken glass and praying that no more equipment got launched.

“Beel?” You call out peaking your head through the gaping hole on the side of the gym. "Hey, Belphie texted me. Wanna talk about it?” The inside of the gym was dark. Wires hung and sparked dangerously in front of you. A large burst pipe blocked most of your vision. “Beel?” You could hear his loud bone chilling breathing. He was close.

“Careful.” You jump swallowing the curse that threatened to slip out. Beelzebub emerged from the darkness at the back of the gym. His eyeless face locking onto you. “You are close to a line.” His many mouths move in unison. Some rumbling as he spoke, others just drawing in rasping wheezing breaths.

“Thanks.” You jump back onto the street. “You wanna come out? You look a bit cramped.” He was comically too large for the allotted space. His goliath sized body packed into a little sardine can. He rattles for a bit considering. You cock your head to the side looking at the empty street. “Plenty of room out here.” You wave at your sole spectator and give them a small thumbs up. They blink in horror over your shoulder. Eyes locked on the beast emerging.

“I’m sorry.” He drags himself out. Thick steel like claws causing the little trainer hiding behind you to whimper. Beel’s fingers dig into the stone and mortar. Oph- this was going to cost a bit to fix.

“It’s ok big guy-happens to the best of us.” You say casually. Once he was outside he shivers in the cool afternoon air. His bones creak as you approach him. “May I touch you?” You approach hand raised. He never cared if you touched him in his human form. It centered him a lot of the time. He enjoyed the feel of your soft and giving flesh against his smooth hard skin. But this form was slightly more dangerous for you well being.

Beel shakes his head at your movement melding back into the dark hole. His mouths open wide to release a plume of black smoke. The trainer cries out, scurrying back further down the street. You hold your ground however. Chin up definitely, unafraid at what you knew was coming. The thick black vapor coats your skin. It latches on to you and seeps through your pores. You feel him in the back of your mind running through your head, searching for something. You breathe slowly, letting him shuffle through your psyche.

You feel a flush of warmth, a near giddiness that brings an uncontrollable smile to your face before it is gone. Snuffled out like a candle in the wind. A slow chilling tingling begins in all of your extremities as he feeds off your emotions. He pulls at your center, eating away at your mental state. An odd empty ache blooms in your chest, you need to untangle yourself before he bled you dry.

He pulls back then, knowing when he has gone too far. The pallor of his skin is richer now. A darker grey than before. The waxing sheen gone and replaced with a deep purple hue underneath. His cobweb like veins thumping with life. “Thanks~” His rattles remerging onto the street. His oblong head nudges your shoulder, checking on you. You pat at it, careful of the mouths and razor sharp teeth.

“Of course; don’t mention it.” You turn on weak knees to the trainer. Looking at complete ease with the cardinal sin currently wrapping his many limbed and mouthed body around your comparatively tiny frame. “I guess this is not super common?” You ask, waving at the destruction. They shake their head.

“He-he ate Gordin.”

“Ah-ye. He does that. Sorry.” At a loss, they accept the sleek business card you thrust at them with your free hand. “Call Mr. Morningstar. He can work on the repair finances with the manager.”

“But Gordi-” You wince as the little demon’s mandibles tremble, voice getting frantic. Could demons shed tears? You were about to find out.

“Beel?” Cupping his large head you stare at him, eyes traveling over his face. His mouths snap shut, body turning smooth. The only movement from his was his hearts beating steady beneath his translucent skin. He stood still like a statue carved by a deranged artist. “Beel.” You say again more firmly. You step away from his hooked fingers. “Spit them out.”

He doesn’t move. His inner rattling becoming louder and more defensive.

You roll your eyes and look back exasperatedly with a shrug. The other demon stares speechless in terror. Or with the dawning realization of just how absurd this whole situation was. You turn back to Beel, fists balled on your hips. “If you don’t I guess I’m going to eat all these snacks I brought.” The death rattle stops. You could feel his full focus on you now aghast. “I’m serious. Mammon even went and bought those new limited release batwing chips too, extra spicy.” 

He hacks suddenly, back arching like a cat as a large seam opens on his skin where his stomach (stomachs?) region was. A bulky demon covered in purple viscous sludge tumbles to the ground with a wet squelch. Their skin was a sickly color and their eyes wide in terror.

“Gordi!” The other trainer pushes past you and grabs at the trembling demon, pulling him away from the hungry mouths.

“Thanks, Beelzebub.” You walk him quickly down the abandoned streets once the two others had fled. He lopes behind you, gaunt body swaying in the light breeze. Once you hit the more crowded streets he moves closer to your back. Other demons on the street give you a wide berth, eyeing and swatting at a few straying arms or fingers that attempt to grab them or their things. You move quickly, hoping to avoid having to scold him again for eating more demons.

“I’m sorry.” Beel croaks once more when you finally come to a stop at an empty park bench. He sits next to it expectantly. The grass and foliage around him weathering and turning to dust at his touch. His arms subconsciously start stuffing the dried grass and flowers into his many mouths.

“It’s ok.” You repeat yourself coming to rest on the park bench. Without preamble you dump the contents of your bag onto the ground. He croons in delight at the mound of snacks being pushed to him. “Eat up. Take a breather and then we can talk. If you want.” With that he dives in.

Beel munches in silence, mismatched limbs unwrapping-or not- the treats and popping them into his little mouths. You watch for a bit before getting preoccupied with a book you borrowed from Satan. You don’t know how much time passes before a boney finger pokes at your forearm. The same arm then hovers by your nose offering you a pudding cup.

“Ah, thank you!” You close your book and take the flan pudding. He had finished most of the food and had calmed considerably. Most of the mouths have disappeared, closing as they were sated. He scoots closer, the oppressive neediness of his sin dulled to an almost nonexistent thumping in your stomach. Easy enough to ignore, especially now with a sweet treat boosting your mood. “Feeling any better?”

Beel grunts, scratching at his knobby spine. You watch him for a moment. Reading his emotions in this form was hard. Thankfully, you knew the reason for the outburst this time. First time you stumbled upon him like this had been an absolute circus. A terrifying, and destructive circus. He had been in full form that night. Locusts and clawed fingers moving in blurs, swiping at everything that came near. The younger brothers screaming at him over the sounds of breaking furniture and the buzz of insect wings. They dodged around his tantrum trying to calm him before Lucifer returned from a meeting.

“It’s a damned ice cream cup!” Satan roars, close to shifting himself. The telltale heat of his body starting to radiate out and singe the carpet beneath his feet. Beel screeches back, flies, and spittle spraying out over them. Asmo yelps and drags you out of the room with him.

“Ugh! The moment he gets all gross and buggy I’m out.” He shudders, locking the door on the apocalypse happening on the other side. “Hopefully Mammon can slow Lucifer down so they can neaten up.”

“Is he going to be ok?” You look back watching the solid door shudder under the weight of a body being thrown.

Asmodeus sucks his teeth dismissively, bright nails clicking away at his phone. You glance at it seeing that he had messaged Mammon to bring some take out too. “Oh ye, this happens from time to time. He just has to let off some steam. Then we can stuff him with food and he’ll be right as rain. You want anything hun’?” You shake your head stunned by his carefree attitude as the house shook around them.

Beel had come to apologize for his behavior later that night. His human form a little banged up, but no worse for wear. You went out for ice cream in hopes to cheer him up. Offering an ear too if he needed an outsider's perspective. You were also curious about his true nature and had a thousand and one questions to ask. He was apprehensive at first. It was clearly a sore subject for him. But over time he opened up, speaking freely about his struggles and fears of destroying his family's already shaky foundation with his gluttony.

“Asmo is furious with me.” He sighs, bringing you back to the present. He rests his head on your shoulder, careful with his weight.

“He’ll get over it.” You stroke his cool skin tapping at a closed mouth. It opens and licks your finger. It was as close to a kiss as this form could get to. “It’s not like he can’t make more.” Beel huffs, rubbing his head into the soft fabric of your sweater.

“I am nothing but a burden to them aren’t I.”

“Never.” You don’t hesitate. He grumbles unconvinced. “Hey,” You nudge him off your shoulder to look at him. “Remember last Saturday? How you helped Levi get his limited edition statue?”

“I just stood in a line.” He pouts. “And I only did that because I ate his Ruri-chan mochi’s.” Oh- you didn’t know that part.

“Well, I still think you’re a good brother.” You cover. “ Tell me, would any of the others do the same? You beat yourself up over every little mistake. How many times has Asmo or Mammon swiped one of your snacks?” He hums contemplatively, nails clacking on the concrete.

“But I always lash out when they do that.” You nod kicking your feet up to lounge on the bench, back resting against his. Grabbing at a set of arms you wrap them around your waist playing with the fingers that weren’t razor sharp.

“Yes, and? Asmo just did too. Runs in the family by the looks of it.” You chuckle. “ So why should you be the only one not allowed to get upset? But next time call before rampaging through the city, K?” You smile up at his monstrous visage. He smiles back hesitantly before coming closer.

Beelzebub nips you gently with his primary mouth. Large fangs careful not to break the skin. A cute little display of gratitude. He tastes your sincerity on you. Sweet and smooth on his tongue. “Thanks,” He rumbles. Cradling you close, he rises to his full height. “I think I’m ready to head back now.”

You snuggle into his unyielding body checking your wrist watch. “Yeah big guy? Guess it is almost dinner time.”

He picks up the pace. 


	7. Leviathan

  * In the celestial realm, he loved the waters and was gifted a body that was best suited for it from his father. It was beautiful, so sleek, shiny, and fast. When he was in the water even Mammon had trouble keeping up. But, the best part of it all was that some angels were envious of it. 
  * He was pretty close to Asmo during this time too. Asmo would help him dry brush his scales and moisturize the harder to reach areas across his body. In return when Levi would shed Asmo got to keep his pretty scales. From there Asmo would make makeup and jewelry from them. 
  * When he would visit the human realm with Lilith and Belphie they would play near any body of water that tickled their fancy to teased the mortals with his splendor. They would get a good laugh out of the stories of mermaids and great sea beasts that were created around him afterward. 
  * During the fall he was separated from the rest of the brothers. His unconscious body flung away from the pack to careen into the parts unknown while his brothers plummet into the Devildom. 
  * He comes to briefly to the feel of his blistered flayed skin hissing on impact by the cool ocean waters of the human realm. 
  * He slumbered for a long time down there. His body recovering from the war in the quiet. It adapted without him, working overtime to survive its new environment. His broken halo’s edges dull out, the deep trench’s currents buffering and polishing it down to horns. They grow out slowly into a large coral reef for the deep-sea inhabitants. 
  * The lack of light turns his skin a translucent grey color, the warm glow from the celestial realm leached from him. While his scales and hide turn dark and take on an oily sheen. Great clumps of basalt rock grow over the burns from tearing through the earth's atmosphere. The rapid heating and cooling of his skin formed iron-rich patches around his flaking scales. 
  * When he wakes he is distraught. His once illustrious serpentine tail and radiant body were now battered and stained in his eyes. He stays down there in the depths out of shame for a few more years. 
  * The rest of the changes to his body were of his own making. A grand mixture from the creatures that he observed around him. His bright celestial markings now took after the bioluminescent creatures that would flock around him. He grew his hair out, enchanting some strains to take after the jellyfish he ate. Absorbing their toxins to imbue into his hair and blood. 
  * He finds the fish with razor sharp teeth and large net-like mouths fascinating and takes after them too. Once he is satisfied (and has pulled himself out of his little self-pity party) he moves from his den, traversing the ocean floor and migrating with some of the other larger sea beasts. 
  * The years of separation from his brothers did a number on his mental health and social skills. Being trapped under the water for so long healing has stunted that part of his physique. The years before his brothers found him have dulled his social skills with higher beings and humans. Making him antisocial as well as paranoid. 
  * His communication skills with sea life are much better. During his travels, he bested and then befriended many mythical creatures. But his greatest ally has to be the legendary sea beast Lotan.
  * The older beast taught Leviathan a lot about the human realm and what has changed over time. Took up a bit of a parental/ mentor role for Levithan. They settle together in the waters of the east sea. 
  * Leviathan was drawn to this particular patch of water because of the pretty boats, _atakebune_ Lotan called them. For years he watched the coastal regions of China and Japan grow and prosper and more ships entered his territory. 
  * He became somewhat of a local legend. Sailors and warriors would bring him offerings of food, gold, people, and other valuables for safe passage through his waters or help in an upcoming naval battle. He sometimes helped but most of the time he just observed.
  * He did take great joy in battles. It was a great game for him. Something different from the boring year among the fish. 
  * Contrary to belief, he can’t control the weather or the seas but his massive body can create devastating waves and his control of sea life is deadly to sailors. His fishy friends eat well when he emerges for a battle. He keeps the bloated and rioting corpses of fallen soldiers. They feed his smaller friends and help him maintain his coral horns
  * His brother’s eventually find him and bring him to the Devildom after they hear rumors of a mischievous sea serpent.
  * Whether it was because of his old injuries or just all his time under the sea with a tail he doesn’t have great control in his bipedal form. Both his human and demonic form have a slight limp and no aptitude for physical activity. 100% has a pass to get out of P.E. 
  * Moving back in with the brothers really brought out his cardinal sin of envy. He used to be so close with them all and then he was separated for so long he feels like he will never catch up. Between their new forms (that he finds much more practical and prettier than his) and his inability to adjust to their new lifestyle, he cemented himself in his envy. He tucks himself away in his room and surrounds himself with distractions and stories. 
  * Diavolo gifted him his enchanted aquarium after hearing about his struggles to adapt from Lucifer. Levi was appreciative but will never say it. When he gets overwhelmed by life and his videogames can’t distract from his racing thoughts he likes to go in for a swim and tend to his aquatic gardens.



* * *

**Mini Fic**

Warm water laps at your toes. The salt of it clinging to your feet in thin crusty layers. You wiggle them, washing away some of the grime and to propel yourself deeper into the water. You take joy in disrupting the mirror-like finish of the once still water. Smiling up at the giant sun lamp mounted over you, you adjust your sunglasses. 

Sunday lounge days were the best. Just you, a cold bottle of soda, and a new swimsuit. You missed the beach and waters of the human whelm but not the crowds. Ugh, screaming kids and impolite beach guests were the worst. This was the best alternative you could have imagined. Between the warmth of the heat lamp and the slow motions of the water underneath you, you felt the stress of the week slowly washing away.

Dipping your hands in the water you begin to push your floaty further away from the edge of the thick aquarium wall. The light blue water underneath you deepening to an emerald green when you reach the drop-off point of Levi’s tank. The water is cooler here, but still comfortable as most of your body is still dry and safely nestled in his oversized pool float. Little surface fish and aquatic animals swim by, splashing your floaty and nibbling at your toes gently in greeting. They all knew better than to actually bother you. 

Letting the gentle current of the water pumps push you around in lazy circles you pull out the manga Levi had bought you (magically coated to make it waterproof) and flip back to your last bookmark. Enjoying the peace and quiet you immerse yourself in his latest hyper fixation. 

A few chapters in and three empty soda bottles later you notice your idle turning had stopped. Leaving you at a complete standstill. The water around you was still. The little fishies that had been following you had disappeared to the devil knows when. Yet despite the sudden abandonment of your aquatic entourage you still felt a presence. The heavy aura of a predatory gaze makes the fine hairs of your neck stand on end. The self-preserving part of your mind kicking into fight or flight mode. Best to just ignore that for now...Peeking out from behind your sunglasses you lean over your floaty to see what had stopped you. A gargantuan milky white eye stares back up at you. 

When you had first been introduced to this side of Levi his pearly gaze had been so guarded. It had been by complete accident that you saw well- him. So that couldn’t have helped much with his confidence. You had come by to drop off a few handheld consoles that he had lent you to see if you would like one as a gift. You remember being by his desk trying to find a noncluttered space to put them all when the blue glow of his room was suddenly thrown into darkness.

That was the first time you had been face to face with The Leviathan. It was magnificent. Even your textbooks in your Introduction to Demonology didn’t do him justice. It was breathtaking and bone chilling all in one. You remember locking eyes with him and the both of you freezing. His reflexive gaze boring into you a mixture of betrayal and fear fighting for dominance. A wordless dare for you to scream or curse his appearance. They had been closed off to all your kind words and encouragements at the beginning. 

Now they are open and warm. If not a little mischievous. Scratch that-very mischievous. 

“Don’t you dare.” You warn with a dawning realization. “Levi!” You shout over the edge of your float after him. He sinks down without even making a ripple. The shadow of the beast's body turns the green waters black as he jets underneath you. The little flicks of bioluminescence on his hide blink in and out of focus as he moves. Distracted as you were leaning over the side you didn’t notice the slim tip of his tail rise from the other side. 

It happened quickly, a slight jerk on your ankle and then a shock of cold water. Coughing and sputtering you breach the surface. Floundering about blindly for your floaty, your hands rest on something thick and sturdy. He chitters and laughs at his little joke. “Ya-ya laugh it up.” You grip his tree trunk sized tail like a lifeline. He keeps still giving you time to blink the water out of your eyes. “Ok. You got me in the water now what?” 

HAvE- sUrpiEssss. Levi’s large mouth clicked clumsily over the syllables. His long thin teeth always made it hard to shape his words. It had taken some time and effort to get him to loosen up enough to talk. He was very self-conscious of the phlegmy- waterlogged sound of it. The years spent under the sea having permanently filled his lungs with briny saltwater. Each breath of air rattle deep in his barrel chest.   
  
Schooling your expression you shot him a scowl Lucifer would be proud of. “What, a mouthful of salt wasn’t enough?” He scoffs white eyes narrowing, seeing right through your false agitation. This wouldn’t be the first or the last time he got your attention like this and he knew you were fine with it. “Alright you oversized guppy, how far down is it?” 

Levi beams, wide mouth stretching to flash you his blood-stained fangs. His gills flaring up in excitement down his large neck and rib cage. Careful of his more toxic strands of hair and the abrasive patches of rock around his neck, you swim closer accepting help from his long pale fingers. Clutching onto his strong neck you give him a small thumbs up.

He dives into the water with practiced ease slowly descending to give your body and the magic protecting you time to acclimate. It was bone-chillingly at first, your whole body seizing as you are submerged. But soon the magic of your pact began to work warming you and making you able to breathe underneath the artificial currents. Eyes slowly adjusting to the lack of light you nestle into the crook of his neck for the remainder of the ride. 

He takes you to an underwater cave. The mouth hidden behind flowing purple and green water weeds. The entrance of the cave was like nothing you’ve seen before. Other caves in his habit were filled to the brim with coral and little crustaceans. Sometimes even an elusive mermaid or capricorn nursing injury. But this one was- empty. Warmer too as you swam deeper. The great sea beast dragging himself through the cave with his needle like claw above you. A defensive stance if ever you saw one. 

You catch his eye and raise a brow. Don’t worry- itss ssafe...I think. 

“Wait? You think?” You stop in your tracks only to have a massive hand nudge you along. He pushes you through the last of the tangled seaweed and kelp you look up into a- “nursery?” Levi smiles and nods twitchily. 

Do you like it? I’ve spent months getting this place ready. He leaves you to look around freely, instead slithering up to a slightly less floral. You gape turning slowly in circles to take in the beauty around you. The cove simmered with the lights from his heat lamp pushing through the cracks in the rocks from above. The yellow warmth makes it easier for the crazy amount of plants and sponges to thrive. But the vast majority of the light came from the jellies and fish that had probably never been seen by human eyes before floating around you. 

They were busy, grooming the anemones and rainbow colored corals, eating and pushing bits of waste away from large lilac colored eggs. The larger of the sea creatures swim above you checking on some of the moving eggs completely ignoring you and Levi... “Are they-”

Sirens. Lotan found a broodmother and her clutch last winter. We thought they had been wiped out centuries ago. He chitters at one of the eggs and scratches at his coral horns. She needed a place to nest so we made a deal. Taking great care he pulls at a large clump of sargassum from the base and pats it into a bare patch of rock. You watch him with a growing smile as he pulls more plants and critters from his horn reef. Once satisfied he scoops up a few of the larger eggs below him and nestles them into their new home.  
  
You peek over his shoulder to look into the nest. Hauntingly beautiful babies look back up at you. Cherub sweet faces follow you and Levi’s movements. Levi grins proudly as one of the girls stretches out in her small space. They should be hatching soon. With some prompting from Leviathan, you accepted an egg. The inhabited squirming and clawing at its elastic membrane. It looked too small for its leather confines. The baby siren opens her tiny mouth and screeches, little needle teeth biting and ripping at the egg.

“Should I help it?” You ask. She was squirming so hard it was a fight to keep her in your arms. Levi looks over and emits a little series of clicks and coos at the fussy babe. The babe stops wiggling as hard but begins to claw at a thinner part of the shell. He turns after that to tend to a few squirming eggs himself. His claws were much more helpful than your blunt human fingers. Well then... You wait until the little beast has punctured the shell itself before helping it widen the breech. 

Once freed the siren floats to the soft cave flooring. The kelp and anemones cushioning it, covering her body almost lovingly. A swarm of little crabs and shrimp descend on it picking and eating away at the remaining goo and membrane clinging to the infant. She giggles at the tiny pinches and mouths nibbling at her tail and claws. With a squeal of delight, she crawled after them and began to devourer them. Blue and green blood coming up in clouds from her mouth. 

Levi laughs at your look of disgust momentarily distracted from freeing a few more babies. They will grow to bring the bodies of sailors to me for Diavolo’s navy. This is but practice. 

“Oh-” You blink down at the monster now enraptured with your toes. The mood changed quickly.

Oh no. Levi buries his face in his hands instantly regretting opening his big mouth. That’s gross, isn’t it? Of course, this whole thing is disgusting to a human. I should have never shown you, nobody likes this stuff. He coils in on himself sinking to the bottom, eggs forgot to his misery. 

“Now what a minute! I didn’t say that.” You sink down after him. “I don’t think it’s icky. Just another learning curve for us normies right? Honestly, this is kinda cool.” 

“Really?” He peeks out from behind his hair and fingers.

You grip his hands, struggling to pull them away from his face. “Yeah!” You beam. “I mean you built all this? It is beautiful. Totally reminds me of that anime you watched with me last month.” 

I think my roommate is a sea god and almost drowned my ex? He brightens tailing wagging. 

“Exactly! You’ve really outdone yourself this time. Plus think of all the cool names you can come up with for all these sirens.” His gills flare again with a shrill screech. 

Henry’s!

Ah- well maybe it would be better to forget naming them all. 


	8. Barbatos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long ass wait. Life ya know? Hope ya like!

  * Of all the demons you’ve met, he unnerves you the most. Not because of his demeanor or temperament. No, no you genuinely like him and his company. There is just something about him that unnerves you sometimes. He is just so hard to place.
  * You see- how can I explain this. The brothers are easy to understand’ easy to neatly categorize and compartmentalize in your mind as friend or foe. For as ancient as they are you do share some common traits. Family lineage for one. Traceable origins. It’s familiar, it’s comforting.
  * Hells, even Diavolo has an origins, a genealogy one could trace. A family made of stone flesh and blue blood. (He’d be happy to tell you about it too- if you have a few eons to waste).
  * But Barbatos? Barbatos had just always been- here...there? From the context clues you’ve picked up from Lucifer and Diavolo he was older than even the great kings of the past. He even helped raise the crown price. He grew in experience and expanded his talents, but never aged. Did he have kin? A bloodline? Hell did he even bleed? His very existence raises the hackles of your self preservation skills. 
  * If he is older than the old kings is he old then the concept of time itself? Does the idea of time really exist to him at all? 
  * The odd fight or flight feelings he gives you lessen and disappear over time though. He knows he can be quite uncomfortable to the human psychic and evolutionary survival traits instilled in you after hundreds of thousands of years fighting to the top of the food chain. 
  * It took you a bit, but one day you finally warm up enough to ask him about- well him. How he works, and what is relation with the idea of time even is. It was shot in the dark question. He is a notoriously private demon. But for you he will open up a little. Besides, it’s not like you could do anything with the information anyway. Just promise to never tell Solomon. 
  * The best he can explain time to a mortal is in an analogy. If time was an object it would best be described as a stream or creek to him. And all the little minnows and guppies trapped in its currents were the beings of the three realms. While they are bound by the waters he would be the one standing on the riverbank. 
  * Most of the time he is happy enough to walk alongside the flow. Other times he enjoys simply dipping his feet in and watch it all pass him by seeing what it all does without his intervention. 
  * Others he’ll slip in himself and gauge out new deviations and channels of his own. He loves to see what flourishes in his hand crafted areas without intervention.
  * He does confide in you however. Despite his age and maturity he can still slip up from time to time. He is not infallible after all. Barbatos’s corporeal existence depends heavily on his emotional state and mental fortitude. If he is not careful he has a tendency to just-get swept up. 
  * One moment he is having a delightful time with you over a fresh pot of tea and the next… You had a lovely funeral. Wait- hmmm no. Honestly, humans can be so gaudy sometimes. He was actually offended on your behalf. The flowers weren’t even freshly cut. 
  * Ah well. Once he is stable he’ll simply dam this stream and kill the flow before this travesty would happen. Now where was he? Ah yes, do you think this blend goes better with Madame Screams or a human bakery? 
  * Truthfully Barbatos doesn’t use his abilities all that often. It gets boring real quick. But sometimes he is tempted. Anything to do with you is a struggle to be exact. Most streams involving you he is happy to let slip by. All the ones of you falling for the brothers, or his highness, even the angel. There are even a few of you falling for Solomon. Those he doesn’t wise to see. 
  * But the streams where you fall for him? The itch to look is overwhelming. Just a peek, a small taste of your favor. What had he done to make you his? Did he have a chance in this timeline? He always loved a good mystery. So he’ll bide his time and wait. 
  * Now naturally there are some other rules to his existence. Being constantly hyper vigilant of himself can get exhausting and he needs to rest. He doesn’t sleep though, not by human standards anyway. You’ve walked in on him “resting” once or twice. He calls it a stasis period. To you, he looks like he’s frozen. Stock still and just standing there in his room. His lanky form flickering in and out of focus. After images appear around him, hundreds of different hims there but not. 
  * It’s an absorption stage, or so he explains. All the input from the trillion parts of hims scattered about all sharing like a hive mind their encounters and experiences. This is the one time every version of him is in sync and very vulnerable. 
  * While he can convene with all his scattered parts of him in stasis he still cannot be in the same visible area as them. One of the two would have to yield to the other. The weaker one reabsorbed quite violently. It is a most unpleasant feeling. 
  * After exerting large amounts of energy and not resting it can take him a bit to recover, and it is very noticeable. He lags hard after such instances, literally. The first time you saw him snapping and rubberbanding around the castle gave you a few more grey hairs than was normal for your age. He’s normally smooth movements were now choppy and stiff. It would have been funny if you weren’t so worried for his well being. The only thing to stop him is Diavolo himself having to throw his weight and power around to get him to rest. He hates being reprimanded. 
  * Don’t get me wrong though. He loves serving the royal family. The years spent in the Devildom have been an utterly delightful vacation. The menial labor and tasks keeps his mind anchored in the present and mutes all the other voices of him to a manageable static. 
  * Now when it comes to his form quite frankly even he has forgotten what he originally looks like. He has been in this form for so long he might as well call it his original form. You ask to see it once, beyond curious. If you could see it that was. Was he like Dia? A formless form? A mass of contradicting layers stack one on one on top of each other?
  * He is hesitant to say the least. He consults with himself on this. Have any of the others come across this yet? If not he promises to look into it for you. He practices with Simone, knowing that aside from Solomon he knows the limits of a human. Once certain he comes to you delighted to share himself with you.
  * He is so ~~smol~~ small. His form fitting neatly in the palm of your hand. He is warm and pulses like with a faint heartbeat. You can’t really make heads or tails of what his defined form really is though. His tiny form is covered in a glowing haze flicks of distorted images and sounds invade your senses whenever you hold him. But one thing you can sense in some kind of bony nodules and slender legs. Thousands of them all skittering and tickling your flesh, like an obscenely long centipede.
  * Now that you know of this form he likes to pop up from time to time when he misses you. His favorite spot to appear is in the breast pocket of your uniform. It’s dark and quiet and close to your heart. While he can’t talk in this form, the physical closeness is enough for the both of you. 



* * *

**Mini Fic**

“Be honest with me. Which one of me is your favorite?” You flip over onto your pleasantly full stomach. His tea sandwiches and cakes make you feel sleepy. You stretch out with a grunt of happiness enjoying all the little touches that were distinctly Barbatos. The blanket protecting you from the early morning dew smelt of elderflower and juniper. The fleece material was a personal favorite, soft, warm, and perfect. Even the foods had all been your favorites. He had crafted this all with you in mind. Surely you were the favorite. If he would put this much effort into it.

The demon in question hums from his chair. A steaming cup of tea resting lightly on his bottom lip. A perplexing thought. Each one of you was a delight to his many senses, so similar, yet so different at the same time. Like a reflection in a broken mirror. Each one so stunning and vivacious in a way only a human could be. Yet so few even glanced his way. “Does a parent have a treasured child?” He quips back. 

Your peal of laughter warms him better than any tea. “Ha! You must be an only child then.” You snort. He matches your smile, pleased that you were pleased. 

“Perhaps-” He takes a sip cutting off that train of thought there. He didn’t need to sour a pleasant morning with such melancholy questions. Was he an only child? Surely he at least had a sire. If he had such kin would they have not met by now? He was on every plane of existence that he knew of. Had they missed each other? Slipping past each other like ships in the night.

More likely they would be more like two similar ends of a magnet being forcibly kept away by their molecular structure than merely missed chances. Incapable of existing in the same dimension at the same time.

Ignorant to his inner turmoil you flip back over to your back eyeing the snack tray he refilled. “How much longer now?” He checks his pocket watch then looks out at the carnage below them.

The Battle of Omosu was in full swing. The ancient warriors below oblivious to the strangely dressed human and otherworldly man sitting on top of a neighboring cliffside to observe the preordained outcome. “Any moment- now pay attention.” He chastises you but without any heat. Pocketing his watch he comes to sit beside you on the fleece blanket. You scoot closer, happy to have his naturally warmer body beside you. The heat of which fends off the cold sea breeze. “There, look.” He points to a growing patch of bubbles by one of the enemy ships. 

The water turns turbulent, oily green, and black bubbles foaming on top of the surface. “Wow.” It was all you could manage to whisper. 

Leviathan enters the fray now, called forth by his pact barer. The great serpent emerges like a ghost from the depths. Invisible to the other mortals you watch fascinated as his massive tail wraps around a boat crushing it as easily as if it were a stick. Another capsizes, getting pushed away by his massive shoulder. 

The sailors fall into the choppy water mouths open in silent screams. They would not survive after hitting the water. Levi’s legion waits below, ready to drag them deeper down. Their bodies will be added to the Devildom navy. Something dark and humanoid darts around the remaining boats. From what you remember from class Levi had called forth an umibozu from the nearby depth for this fight. Its bloated grey body jostles the boats knocking more sailors overboard whole. The two of them make fast work of the enemy ships. The human sailors pick off the rest.

“Quite impressive.” Barbatos remarks. “I can see why humans want to make deals all the time. But what a terrible cost, don't you think?” 

“What’s going to happen to the pact holder?” You ask. 

“Depends on whatever Levi feels like. Mostly his holders are trapped in the depths of his realms. Left to the devices of their victims. But each brother is different.” The air around you both grows thick with your sudden fear. You rub subconsciously where your pact mark rested, eyes blank. 

He places a firm hand on your thigh bringing your focus back to him. “Don’t worry. Like I said the choice is up to the demon that holds the pact. I doubt you would be advantageous to the royal navy.” You chuckle weakly, still rubbing at the growing chill climbing up your arm. “Will this be enough for your project?” He removes his hand begrudgingly away from your soft leg. “It is getting late.”

You nod glancing back down to the battle. It was already over-with the great sea beasts and demons in the water, Takeda’s forces didn’t stand a chance. You don’t wait to see Levi’s victory lap. “Yes, thank you for your help.” You accept his help in picking up your books and supplies. “I hope Kinz is happy with this.” You had been having a bit of trouble in your history class with Professor Kinz. Nothing major, you had assured him. But if it continued your ranking within the school would be at risk, and with it your scholarships. 

“Any time.” Barbatos moves an elegant hand to the center of your back escorting you away from the edge. A door slowly emerges from within the mist. He grabs the semi-translucent knob and opens it for you. “I know it will be more than satisfactory.” 

“Ye?” You adjust your pack’s shoulder strap bracing yourself for the weirdness of time travel. “Think you can give me next week's lotto numbers? I’m asking for a friend.” Your teasing pulls a deep rumble from him. It was all in good fun, but truth be told he came to find that not keeping one of his many eyes on you had the most enjoyable outcomes. You little human ramblings and witty comebacks being one of them. You at least weren’t afraid to joke around him. 

“Now, who said I did anything of the sort?” He chuckles. Keeping a firm grip on your forearm he ushers you through the threshold. You clung to him hating the sticky feeling of the space between time. It clung to your skin, thousands of webs grab and pull at your clothes knowing that you were not supposed to be outside of their control. You were envious of the fact that you couldn’t experience it the way Barabatos did. To him, this was nothing more than the feel of a cool shower. The pulls of time merely buffering off of him. Hardly a threat like it was to you. 

He sees you off at the gate to the house bowing deeply as you hop up the front stairs waving at him. You had to hurry lest you be late for dinner. Once you had disappeared through the door he melds into the timestream once more emerging in front of your classroom. A week had passed and your paper was due. He was excited to see what you had gotten and just didn’t feel like waiting this time. He could indulge from time to time. 

The bell rings and your class files out. They pay him no mind. The prince’s butler was nothing to gawk at. He counts heads. His frown deepens when you do not appear from the lecture hall. Kinz leaves the room last, her heels clacking obnoxiously on the marble. “Oh! Good afternoon Barbatos, are my services needed by the prince?” She smiles showing far too many teeth to be considered polite. Their mutual dislike of each other was a poorly kept secret. But she had a talent that Diavolo needed; for the moment. 

He matches her predatory smile. “I was here looking for our esteemed exchange student.” Her smile falters, her hackles raising for a moment before her face goes blank. 

“They didn’t show up today.” She flicks her tail dismissively. “You know how pathetic humans are.” She challenges him, locking eyes with him like the fool she was. 

“Hmm. I do not share this sentiment, but it is unusual to have them miss class.” All airs of pleasantly evaporate from him. The cold fury of his ire permeates the narrow hallway. Kinz flinches, breaking eye contact with him. Her weak attempt at dominance is gone. “A moment if you will-” His voice brittle and laced with malice. “I shall return for you later.” He bows shallowly and blinks out of existents leaving the woman quaking in the hall. 

________________________________________________________________

An insult, a complete violation of the rules set by Diavolo himself. If the celestial council caught wind of such a flagrant disregard for your mental well being- the program would be in jeopardy. Hiding your death had been hard enough. But a room full of demons acting out unsupervised? 

Barbatos struggles to control himself. He could feel his grasp on himself waver with each passing second. His very self unraveling at the seams. Your tears fuel his rage.

Kinz stands over you mocking your relentlessness in front of your peers since the brothers were not present in the class. You had been so excited to test your merit on your own, believing that after getting to know the student body you could handle it. Diavolo approved, figuring his name and the program's initiative was enough to protect you- at least on campus. In theory, it seemed like a good idea, you were well liked among the student body. But that same feeling didn’t bleed over to this particular teacher it seems. A grave error on the councils’ part. 

Barbatos watches along with the rest of the silent class as Kinz burns your paper at the front of the lecture hall, berating you for “showing off” and “abusing your statues for brownie points”. You leave halfway through the start of class. A trail of salty tears and ashes left behind in your wake. 

Such disgustingly uncouth behavior. To a guest of the prince no less. To you. 

He arrives inside Diavolo’s office in a blur, filling the empty air by his prince’s side. The younger demon used to the sudden comings and goings of his most trusted ally didn't even look up from his paperwork. “Something the matter? You are getting a little wispy around the edges.” Diavolo asks signing off on a form. 

Barbatos inhales deeply focusing on his present self. The unneeded action of breathing, the expanding and contracting of his chest cavity was soothing. Not necessary for him, but nice. Yet another odd quirk he had picked up during his time in the Devildom. “Kinz has been putting the program in jeopardy.” He grinds out once he finally locks himself back in. 

“Oh?” Diavolo dips his pen in its ink well. “That is quite unfortunate for her. Do you suggest a council meeting on the matter?” Barbatos bites his cheek. 

“I believe her offense far outweighs just a slap on the wrist. I believe her tenure should be revoked. This isn’t her first strike.” 

Diavolo chuckles resting back in his chair. He gives his full attention to his butler who was bustling around the room, tiding an already spotless room. “I haven’t seen you this bloodthirsty since those scribes in Alexandria poked at you.” 

“I gave them a fair warning. As I have with Kinz.” He bristles. Diavolo waves a hand, willing to listen. “Kinz has taken up public humiliation and verbal abuses since the brothers are not around to interject. You know how she is. This will only accelerate in time if not nipped now.” 

“Is that what you see?” 

“I don’t need to to know.” 

Diavolo sighs deeply, weighing the pros and cons of losing such an asset. He already knew his verdict, as did Barbatos. Even without his powers, they both knew either one of them would bend for you. “Fine.” He returns to his desk of papers. “I will let you do as you please. Just don’t tangle things up too much.” 

“Thank you, my lord.” 

In a way, it was a pity. Kinz is- well- was one of the Devildom’s more esteemed historians. Her place amongst the upper echelon had been a commendable feat. She certainly lasted longer than the archivist and scribes that had come before her. 

Barbatos stares in disgust at his once stark white gloves. But better soil a pair of gloves or two then touch her wretched corpse with his bare hands. Ugh. Was that some viscera on his wingtips? The cruor of it turns purple as it oxidizes in the open air. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard. Though to him, it was merited. She had been a pain in his ass for years. Plus the past thirty or so versions of her had put up a bit of a fight. Once even he had walked in on a reflection of him taking her down for some other transgressions. He rolls his shoulders as a phantom twitch shoots up his spin. Merging consciousness was unbearable. Yet, as he went about his duties “cleaning” he realized he would handle as many as needed to see you safe. Fascinating. 

At first, he had debated with himself on at least keeping a few versions of Kinz around. While he universally hated her, there were a few less volatile Kinz floating around. If only to steal her work for the prince and his goals. But even without her, her discoveries and advancements would be found by others. He had even found a diamond in the rough, a potential successor. Given time to grow and which paths they take they could benefit Diavolo greatly. Even more than her. A gamble he was happy to take. With that discovery, Kinz’s faith was sealed. She was set to be only a figment of a memory left in his mind. The rest of the universe will never remember her.

______________________________________________________________

You stare bewildered at the aged bronze plaque on the door. Something about it didn’t sit well with you. But damned if you could place it. It had something to do with the name. Des Moines...Moines? Who in the hells was that? You glance at your schedule like it was your first day of school instead of your 150th. 

_Room 325- Demonic history: Professor Des Moines Riel._

This can’t be right. Where was Kinz? You grab at your head crying out at the sudden violent throbbing that erupted between your eyes. The queasiness it caused was beyond description. It was enough to send you to your knees. Indecipherable images layer themselves in your mind, folding and stacking on top of each other. The mounting pressure scares you and then-

Nothing.

Bliss and clarity. Like sucking in a breath of fresh air after a near death experience. What were you thinking about again? How did you end up on the floor? Shaking yourself from your stupor you stumble back to your feet. The school hallway was too stuffy for some reason. You needed to walk away, especially from this door. Just looking at it made your stomach clench. Yes, you needed some fresh air. That’s all. 

“Is something wrong?” Patent leather shoes appear beside you matching your hurried gate effortlessly. You shake your head, not trusting yourself to open your mouth lest you start feeling ill again. Barbatos stops you with a gentle hand on your waist. He scrutinizes you, teal eyes roving over every inch of you. Shucking a glove he places a warm palm on your forehead. “You are clammy.” 

“I’m fine.” You lie through your locked jaw. “Just got dizzy for a second.” He looks alarmed. “Don’t worry about it- probably just one of those mysteries of the school.” 

“I’m not worried about it, but you on the other hand.” He looks up from your flushed face to the hallway you had vacated in such a hurry. The history wing. Could you? Impossible. “Is there an issue inside the department?” Had he missed something? 

“What? Oh, no really! Everything is great! I think.” You lean into his hand now resting idly on your cheek. It felt so good compared to your cold skin. “I just- I could have sworn. Is Riel new?” You rub at the bridge of your nose. A knot was growing between your eyes now. “Where is Kin-Kinel? You draw a blank. A name was on the tip of your tongue. You glance up at Barbatos. His hand on your cheek becoming stiff. “What?”

“Nothing my dear.” He recovers smoothly. The hand on your cheek slides down to your shoulder. “Perhaps you should sit out of this class for today? You sound like you're overworking yourself. I’ll make a note of it to Diavolo and Lucifer so it won’t be counted against you.” 

“I- don’t think that’s wise,” You argue meekly. “I have a paper to work on for this class-”

Barbatos ignores your weak plea. Drawing you close to his side he steers you down to the lower floor. “Nonsense. Why don’t we spend some time together? I can help you with that paper later as a trade.”

Hmm. That wasn’t a bad idea. If any demon could get you out of class and help you make it up it would be him. Maybe a little break would be good for you. Though you can’t remember why you needed it in the first place. 


	9. Belphegor

  * Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.
  * His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.
  * An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.
  * If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.
  * He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.
  * His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.
  * He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.
  * Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.
  * Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often than not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.
  * Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.
  * When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.
  * Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.
  * He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.
  * He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well. 



* * *

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun-kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

“You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won’t bite.” You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction nonetheless. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this, he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You’re never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here. 

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over. He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation. 

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horse's dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck. 

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress. 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find these works and a few more that I haven't posted here on my tumblr. Just look for MxVladdy! Ok bye see you next time.


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